Dylan
Merry looks at me with a pitiful expression, and I can’t help but notice the way Mandy blushes, ducking her head down to arrange the glasses in the dishwasher beneath the bar.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Mandy has told Merry about Goldie. She would’ve found out sooner or later anyway, so it was just one of those things. Still, it hurt to think that she was pitying me. Like everyone did.
Two years ago…
I can’t wait to see her face when I turn up to surprise her. Goldie is staying in a beautiful log cabin near St Ives, a short walk from the beach and the quaint little town filled with local boutiques and ice cream shops. Her parents usually rented it out, but Goldie said this year they were going to spend it there with her, so she wasn’t on her own.
I’d told her I was working over Christmas, and she’d believed me. My job at the time was building tennis courts as a labourer, not the most exciting thing in the world, but it paid well enough to justify working from home. But I wasn’t working at Christmas. I was going to surprise my girlfriend of six years by proposing to her on Christmas Day.
The ring had cost three months of my salary, but as I patted the box in my jacket pocket, a broad smile spread across my cheeks. This would be magical.
The lodge itself is set in a wooded area beside the coast, and it’s pretty hard to find even when you know where you are going. That’s why it was so expensive to hire out, the isolation and seclusion it provides. Its off-grid location is enchanting, but the cabin itself is breathtaking. It’s made from local wood, and it’s furnished beautifully, complete with a hot tub undercover so you can gaze at the stars at night with a bottle of wine.
I park my car further down from Goldie’s, and I frown at the unfamiliar black Jeep parked across from hers.
Where is her parents' car?
It’s then that I get the first prickle of unease, and after a three-hour drive in Christmas traffic, it isn’t welcomed.
Maybe her folks got a new car.
But the Mercedes is their pride and joy. It’s barely a year old, anyway. Why would they exchange it?
I reach the back door when I hear Goldie laughing from the inside. She laughs like an angel, the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. I push open the back door, the smile on my face freezing when my eyes fall upon the sight in the kitchen.
Goldie, my Goldie, was sitting on the counter, wearing a man's shirt that slipped from her shoulder, exposing the impeccably soft skin that my lips have travelled over so many times I knew their route off by heart. His fingers are lost in her caramel curls, his head buried in her neck as she leans back, gasping with delight.
Her legs are wrapped around his waist; her hands hooked around his neck as her eyes flutter open, meeting mine.
“Shit!” she half screams, pushing the man between her legs away from her as she clamps her legs together.
The man turns to me with a frown, his brown eyes widening when he sees who I am.
“Dylan, shit…” he mumbles, pushing a hand over his messy blond hair. He’s a surfer and about ten years younger than me, with a ripped body that made Calvin Klein models weep.
“I thought…” Goldie mumbles, sliding down from the counter, her blue eyes searching mine. “You couldn’t make it.”
My stomach is twisting in agony, my jaw clenching as she reaches me. All I can smell is him.
“So, you decided to spend it with Brody?”
Ali flinches at the nickname, rolling his eyes as he leans back against the counter with a cocky expression on his face.
“Hey man, don’t be a hater because you lost the game.”
“Ali!” Goldie hisses, turning to him with a furious expression.
“The game?” I echo, not entirely sure what he’s referring to.
“Yeah, you know, playing the game?” he continues, crossing his tattooed arms across his tanned chest.
“Goldie, what the fuck is going on?” I ask through gritted teeth, staring at Ali the whole time.
Ali was Goldie's best friend. They went to school together and had always had this fucking thing between them that Goldie insisted didn’t exist. But I knew he liked her from the word go, but she wasn’t interested.
So what changed?
